If I Were a Taxi Cab
If I were a taxi cab, I would not charge people.
I would delight them with free rides from St. Louis to New York.
Babies would love being born in my backseat.
I would travel the world, at a good clip, picking up speed downhill.
Policemen would wave me by, remembering their free rides.
I would play sixties and seventies folk music on my radio.
A cute bare foot hippie foot pedal would delight my hippie self.
I would rig up a gorgeous orange and red lava lamp with a silver top.
And you would call me groovy, cool, and radical.
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